FE IS full of pregnant women. They’re everywhere, refusing soft cheese and having backache. You can spot an expectant mum by the gatherings of other mothers reminiscing about their own reproductive adventures or giving advice. I’m rarely one of them.
Unless a pregnant woman has initiated the conversation, I never comment on her condition. There’s a reason for this - and it makes the top 10 list of most awful things I’ve ever said.
It happened more than a decade ago when my son was a toddler. In those early baby years, I was drawn to mum-themed musings, so was thrilled to read a magazine feature by a comedian who moved in the same circles as I did. In the piece, she discussed reactions to the news that she was expecting triplets. It was a heartfelt account as she revealed the range of assumptions people made and the unexpectedly negative responses she’d received - on everything from her size to her financial ability to care for her imminent triple threat.
I’d recently returned to (my pre-FE) work, writing for TV, and had been invited to a glamorous showbiz party. Shortly after arriving, I spotted the comedian who’d written the piece. She stood clutching her wine as I gushed about how moving I found her article and decried what clueless arseholes people were. I finished with four words that still haunt me… Those words?
When. Are. They. Due.
Clumsy comments
Her face at that moment stays with me. It turned out her babies were, by then, eight weeks old. That evening was her first fragile attempt at leaving the house to be someone other than an exhausted new mum. She’d put on make up, she’d bought a posh frock, but my comment implied that she looked like a woman in the process of building three humans at once. I honestly hadn’t noticed her shape.
Pregnancy and birth are extremely personal topics to glibly gob off about, regardless of innocent intent. I learned the hard way but many don’t realise how offensive their clumsy comments are. I’ve experienced them numerous times. I’m sure the perpetrators would be mortified if they knew.
A recent one quipped that I must have had a terrible birth to only have one kid. Another assumed I’d chosen a “big career over a big family”.
Comments like these are never intended to hurt, but a stab wound would cause less pain. I smile and I nod. I don’t tell them about the times I’ve left hospital without a baby. I never explain that my career is a consolation prize to the large family we were desperate for.
Lots of women have had traumatic experiences surrounding pregnancy and birth. Grief and loss are not rare. It’s worth erring on the side of caution when commenting. You could ruin someone’s day.
Sarah Simons works in colleges and adult community education in the East Midlands, and is the director of UKFEchat. She tweets @MrsSarahSimons
